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APPLIED SOFT COMPUTING
Techniques and Applications
Research Notes on Computing and Communication Sciences

APPLIED SOFT COMPUTING

Techniques and Applications

Edited by
Samarjeet Borah, PhD
Ranjit Panigrahi, PhD
First edition published 2022
Apple Academic Press Inc. CRC Press
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Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Title: Applied soft computing : techniques and applications / edited by Samarjeet Borah, PhD, Ranjit Panigrahi, PhD.
Other titles: Applied soft computing (2022)
Names: Borah, Samarjeet, editor. | Panigrahi, Ranjit, 1979- editor.
Description: First edition. | Series statement: Research notes on computing and communication sciences | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 2021026294X | Canadiana (ebook) 20210263024 | ISBN 9781774630297 (hardcover)
| ISBN 9781774639238 (softcover) | ISBN 9781003186885 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Soft computing.
Classification: LCC QA76.9.S63 A67 2022 | DDC 006.3—dc23
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Borah, Samarjeet, editor. | Panigrahi, Ranjit, 1979- editor.
Title: Applied soft computing : techniques and applications / edited by Samarjeet Borah, PhD, Ranjit Panigrahi, PhD.
Other titles: Applied soft computing (Apple Academic Press)
Description: First edition. | Palm Bay, FL : Apple Academic Press, 2022. | Series: Research notes on computing and
communication sciences | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Summary: "Applied Soft Computing:
Techniques and Applications explores a variety of modern techniques that deal with estimated models and give
resolutions to complex real-life issues. Involving the concepts and practices of soft computing in conjunction with
other frontier research domains, this book explores a variety of modern applications in soft computing, including
bioinspired computing, reconfigurable computing, fuzzy logic, fusion-based learning, intelligent healthcare sys-
tems, bioinformatics, data mining, functional approximation, genetic and evolutionary algorithms, hybrid models,
machine learning, meta heuristics, neuro fuzzy system, and optimization principles. The book acts as a reference
book for AI developers, researchers, and academicians as it addresses the recent technological developments in
the field of soft computing. Soft computing has played a crucial role not only with the theoretical paradigms but
is also popular for its pivotal role for designing a large variety of expert systems and artificial intelligent-based
applications. Beginning with the basics of soft computing, this book deeply covers applications of soft comput-
ing in areas such as approximate reasoning, artificial neural networks, Bayesian networks, big data analytics,
bioinformatics, cloud computing, control systems, data mining, functional approximation, fuzzy logic, genetic
and evolutionary algorithms, hybrid models, machine learning, meta heuristics, neuro fuzzy system, optimization,
randomized searches, and swarm intelligence. This book is destined for a wide range of readers who wish to learn
applications of soft computing approaches. It will be useful for academicians, researchers, students, and machine
learning experts who use soft computing techniques and algorithms to develop cutting-edge artificial intelligence-
based applications"-- Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021032651 (print) | LCCN 2021032652 (ebook) | ISBN 9781774630297 (hardback) |
ISBN 9781774639238 (paperback) | ISBN 9781003186885 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Soft computing. | Computer science--Industrial applications.
Classification: LCC QA76.9.S63 A684 2022 (print) | LCC QA76.9.S63 (ebook) | DDC 006.3--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021032651
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021032652

ISBN: 978-1-77463-029-7 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-77463-923-8 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-00318-688-5 (ebk)
RESEARCH NOTES ON COMPUTING
AND COMMUNICATION SCIENCES

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
Dr. Samarjeet Borah
Department of Computer Applications,
Sikkim Manipal Institute of Technology,
Sikkim Manipal University (SMU),
Majhitar, East Sikkim-737136, India
Email: [email protected]
[email protected]

Brief Description of the Series

Computing can be defined as the practice in which computer technology is
used to do a goal-oriented assignment. It covers design and development of
hardware and software systems for various purposes. Computing devices are
becoming an integral part of life now-a-days, including desktops, laptops,
hand-held devices, smartphones, smart home appliances, etc. The evolution
of the Internet of Things (IoT) has further enriched the same. The domain
is ever growing and opening up many new endeavors, including cloud
computing, social computing, ubiquitous computing, parallel computing,
grid computing, etc.
In parallel with computing, another field has emerged that deals with
the interconnection of devices. It is communication, and without which,
the modern world cannot be thought of. It works with a basic purpose
of transferring information from one place or person to another. This
technology has a great influence in modern day society. It influences
business and society by making the interchange of ideas and facts more
efficient. Communication technologies include the Internet, multimedia,
e-mail, telephone, and other sound-based and video-based communica-
tion means.
This new book series consists of both edited volumes as well as selected
papers from various conferences. Volumes of the series will contain
the latest research findings in the field of communication engineering,
vi Research Notes on Computing and Communication Sciences

computer science and engineering, and informatics. Therefore, the books

cater to the needs of researchers and readers of a broader spectrum.

Coverage & Approach

The series
• Covers a broad spectrum of research domains
• Presents on market-demanded product-based research works
• Discusses the latest developments in the field
The book series broadly considers contributions from the following fields:
• Artificial Intelligence and Expert Systems
• Big Data Analytics
• Broadband Convergence System and Integration Technologies
• Cellular and Mobile Communication
• Cloud Computing Technologies
• Computational Biology and Bioinformatics
• Computer and Information Security
• Computer Architecture
• Computer Graphics and Video Processing
• Control Systems
• Database Management Systems
• Data Mining
• Design Automation
• Digital Signal Processing
• GSM Communication
• High Performance Computing
• Human-Computer Interaction
• IoT and Blockchains
• Machine Learning
• Natural Language Processing
• Next Generation Communication Technologies
• Operating Systems & Networking
• Pervasive Computing and Cyber-Physical Systems
• Robotics and Automation
• Signal Processing
Research Notes on Computing and Communication Sciences vii

• Smart Internet of Everything

• SOC and System Platform Design Technologies
• Social Network Analysis
• Soft Computing
Types of Volumes
This series presents recent developments in the domains of computing and
communications. It will include mostly the current works and research
findings, going on in various research labs, universities and institutions
and may lead to development of market demanded products. It reports
substantive results on a wide range of computational approaches applied
to a wide range of problems. The series provides volumes having works
with empirical studies, theoretical analysis or comparison to psychological
phenomena. The series includes the following types of volumes:
• Conference Proceedings
• Authored Volumes
• Edited Volumes
Volumes from the series must be suitable as reference books for researchers,
academicians, students, and industry professionals.
To propose suggestions for this book series, please contact the book
series editor-in-chief. Book manuscripts should be minimum 250–500
pages per volume (11 point Times Roman in MS-Word with 1.5 line
spacing).
Books and chapters in the series are included in Google Scholar and
selectively in Scopus and possibly other related abstracting/indexing
services.
BOOKS IN THE RESEARCH
NOTES ON COMPUTING AND
COMMUNICATION SCIENCES SERIES

• Applied Soft Computing: Techniques and Applications

Editors: Samarjeet Borah and Ranjit Panigrahi
• Intelligent System Algorithms and Applications in Science and
Technology
Editors: Sunil Pathak, Pramod Kumar Bhatt, Sanjay Kumar Singh,
Ashutosh Tripathi, and Pankaj Kumar Pandey
• Intelligent IoT Systems for Big Data Analysis: Concepts,
Applications, Challenges, and Future Scope
Editors: Subhendu Kumar Pani, Pani Abhay Kumar,
Samal Puneet Mishra, Ruchi Doshi, and Tzung-Pei Hong
• Computing and Communications Engineering in Real-Time
Application Development
Editors: B. K. Mishra, Samarjeet Borah, and Hemant Kasturiwale
• Detection and Prediction of Serial Crime via Fuzzy
Multi-Criteria Decision-Making Approach
Editors: Soumendra Goala and Palash Dutta
ABOUT THE EDITORS

Samarjeet Borah, PhD

Professor, Department of Computer Applications,
SMIT, Sikkim Manipal University (SMU), Sikkim,
India
Samarjeet Borah, PhD, is currently working as a
Professor and Head in the Department of Computer
Applications, SMIT, Sikkim Manipal University
(SMU), Sikkim, India. Dr. Borah has carried out
various funded projects from AICTE (GoI), DST-
CSRI (GoI) etc. He has organized various workshops and conferences at
national and international levels. Dr. Borah is involved with various book
volumes and journals of repute from Springer, IEEE, Inderscience, and
IGI Global as Editor or Guest Editor. He is the editor-in-chief of the book
and proceedings series Research Notes on Computing and Communication
Sciences, published by Apple Academic Press, USA. His areas of research
are data mining, data science, and machine learning.

Ranjit Panigrahi, PhD

Assistant Professor, Department of Computer
Applications at Sikkim Manipal University (SMU),
Sikkim, India
Ranjit Panigrahi, PhD, is currently working as an
Assistant Professor in the Department of Computer
Applications at Sikkim Manipal University (SMU),
Sikkim, India. His research interests are machine
learning, pattern recognition, and wireless sensor
networks. Dr. Panigrahi is actively involved in various national and
international conferences of repute. He serves as a member of the tech-
nical review committee for various international journals of Inderscience
and Springer Nature. He received his MTech in Computer Sciences and
Engineering from Sikkim Manipal Institute of Technology and his PhD in
Computer Applications from Sikkim Manipal University, India.
CONTENTS

Contributors .........................................................................................................xv
Abbreviations ..................................................................................................... xix
Preface ............................................................................................................. xxiii
Introduction ........................................................................................................xxv

1. Swarm Intelligence and Bio-Inspired Computation ................................ 1

Rebika Rai

2. User vs. Self-Tuning Optimization: A Case Study on

Image Registration .................................................................................... 23
Jose Santamaria Lopez and Maria L. Rivero-Cejudo

3. Secure Communication Using a Novel 4-D Double Scroll

Chaotic System .......................................................................................... 41
Pushali Trikha and Lone Seth Jahanzaib

4. Detecting Hate Speech Through Machine Learning ............................. 59

F. H. A. Shibly, Uzzal Sharma, and H. M. M. Naleer

5. Optimization of Logical Resources in Reconfigurable

Computing ................................................................................................. 69
S. Jamuna

6. A Sophisticated Similarity Measure for Picture

Fuzzy Sets and Their Application ............................................................ 89
Palash Dutta

7. Semi-Circular Fuzzy Variable and Its Properties ................................ 105

Palash Dutta

8. Virtual Machine Selection Optimization Using

Nature-Inspired Algorithms ................................................................... 121
R. B. Madhumala and Harshvardhan Tiwari

9. Extractive Text Summarization Using Convolutional

Neural Network ....................................................................................... 135
Mihir, Chandni Agarwal, Sweta Agarwal, and Udit Kr. Chakraborty
xiv Contents

10. Theory, Concepts, and Applications of Artificial

Neural Network ....................................................................................... 153
P. Anirudh Hebbar, M. V. Manoj Kumar, and Archana Mathur

11. Comparing Word Embeddings on Authorship Identification ............ 177

Tarun Kumar Dugar, S. Gowtham, and Udit Kr. Chakraborty

12. Fusion-Based Learning Approach for Predicting

Diseases in an Earlier Stage ................................................................... 195
K. Krishna Prasad, P. S. Aithal, A. Jayanthiladevi, and Manivel Kandasamy

13. A Fuzzy-Based Framework for an Agriculture Recommender

System Using Membership Function .................................................... 207
R. Narmadha, T. P. Latchoumi, A. Jayanthiladevi, T. L. Yookesh,
and S. Prince Mary

14. Implying Fuzzy Set for Computing Agricultural Vulnerability ......... 225
A. Jayanthiladevi, L. Devi, R. Kannadasan, Ved P. Mishra, Piyush Mishra,
and A. Mohamed Uvaze Ahamed

15. Modeling an Intelligent System for Health Care Management .......... 237
A. Jayanthiladevi, P. S. Aithal, K. Krishna Prasad, and Manivel Kandasamy

Index ................................................................................................................. 249

Other documents randomly have
different content
 “Dear Friend, be warned ere first you visit Looe;
Its charms are many and its drawbacks few,
Lest home and duties all alike forsook,
You fall beneath the charms of Host and Hostess Cook;
The fare is sweet, the charges just and low
(I’ve travelled much, so surely ought to know,
’Neath Syren’s rocks I’ve heard the eddying Rhine,
In Bingen’s bowers drunk the native wine,
On Baltic’s wave have watched the setting sun,
In France’s fields have met the peaceful nun,
In Wales have wandered by the trout-streamed hill,
On Scotland’s highlands paid the longest bill)
Our host is not a lawyer, yet his conveyance cheap
Will bear you to Polperro, from thence to Fowey steep,
From threatening Cheesewing gaze on oceans twain,
8
At night at billiards try a coup de main,
But yet, I’m sure, as day still follows day
’Twill find you anxious more and more to stay,
Delighted, charmed, with lotus-eating mind,
List! Menheniot’s horn and you are left behind!”

Another:—
“At East Looe, R.S.O., you’ll find
A ‘Ship’ in which you’ll make your home;
’Tis safely anchor’d near the shore
Above the angry billows’ foam.

* * * * *
Three voyages in this ‘Ship’ I’ve made,
The wind was fair, the ocean calm:—
And ‘Captain Cook,’ he knows his book,
His wife’s and sister’s hearts are warm.”
 THE “JOLLY SAILOR.”

But “Captain” Cook did not know his book sufficiently well to
know that he had entertained a minor poet unawares. In the
Visitors’ Book is the signature of Mr. Edmund Gosse, and the landlord
had no recollection of him, although his visit had been, as another
poet (minimis!) sings, “only a year ago.”

“The ‘Captain’s’ wife and sister too

Will do their best to make your lip
9
So much enjoy your food that you
Again will take another trip
In that most comfortable ‘Ship.’”

Fragment:—
“At Looe again: This makes my Trinity
Of visits here; that is, they number Three.
Despite storms, wrecks, and stress of life
I anchor here, away from strife
For briefest stay.”...
 LIV.
We left Looe in the late afternoon, and toiled up the steep and
stony hill that begins to ascend directly after the “Jolly Sailor” is
passed. Atop of this hill we immediately and perversely lost our way,
and the remainder of the afternoon was spent in plunging through
10
“town-places” and fields, and climbing over Cornish hedges, until
we reached the church of Talland, nestling under the lee of the hills
that run down precipitously to Talland Bay. Talland Church is peculiar
in having its tower set apart from the main building, and connected
with it only by an archway. But its peculiarities do not end here, for
the place is very much of a museum of antiquities, and epitaphs of
an absurdly quaint character abound. I am afraid Talland Church
echoed with our laughter, more than was seemly, on this diverting
afternoon. Here is an example:—

“In Memory of
Hugh Fowler Who Departed this
Life the 10th day of August.
In ye year 1771. Aged 50 years Old.
 Afflictions Sore Long time I’ve Bore
Physitions ware in Vain
Till God was Pleased Death should me seise
And Ease me of my Pain
Welcome Sweet Day of Rest
I am Content to ‘Die
My Soul forsakes her vain Delight
And bids the World farewel;
Mourn not for me my Wife an Child so Dear
I am not Dead but sleeping hear,
Farewel Vain world Ive seen Enough of thee
And now I am carles what thou says of me
Thy smiles I Court not nor thy frowns I fear
My Glass is Run my Head Lays kuiet here
What Faults you seen in me take care to shun
And Luck at home Enough there’s to be don.

Also with thin lie the remains

of Elizabeth his Wife who Died
the 6 day of April 1789 Aged 69
Years.”

SEAL OF WEST LOOE.

Pursy cherubs of oleaginous appearance, and middle-aged

double-chinned angels wearing pyjamas, decorate, with weirdly
humorous aspect, the ledger-stone on which this crazy-patchwork
epitaph is engraved, and grin upon you from the pavement with the
half-obliterated grins of a century and more. One of them is pointing
with his claw to an object somewhat resembling a crumpled dress-
tie, set up on end, probably intended for an hour-glass. Here are
some of these devices, reproduced exactly, neither extenuated nor
with aught of exaggeration.

Talland Cherubs

The low and roomy building, in places green with damp, is paved
with mutilated ledger-stones, whose fragments have long ago
suffered what seems to be an abiding divorce, so that disjointed
invocations, and sacred names, and gruesome injunctions to
“Prepare for Death,” start into being as you pace the floor. Here, too,
more than in any other place, do people seem moved to verse in
commemorating their departed friends, not infrequently casting their
elegies in the first person, so that the dead of Talland appear to a
casual observer to be the most conceited and egotistical of corpses.
Of this type, the following epitaph is perhaps the most striking:—
 “Erected
to the memory of
Robert Mark;
late of Polperro, who Unfortunately
was shot at Sea the 24th day of Jany
in the Year of our Lord God
1802, in the 40th Year of His AGE.
In prime of Life most suddenly,
Sad tidings to relate;
Here view My utter destiny,
And pity My sad state:
I by a shot, which Rapid flew,
Was instantly struck dead;
Lord pardon the Offender who,
My precious blood did shed.
Grant Him to rest and forgive Me,
All I have done amiss;
And that I may Rewarded be,
With Euerlasting Bliss.”

Now, this Robert Mark was a smuggler. He was at the helm of a

boat which had been obliged to run before a revenue cutter, and the
boat was at the point of escaping when the cutters crew opened fire,
killing him on the spot.
But the most curious of all the epitaphs within the church of
Talland is that engraved on the monument to “John Bevyll of
Kyllygath.” The monument is an imposing edifice of slate, in the
south aisle, with a figure of John Bevyll, habited in a curious
Elizabethan costume, carved in somewhat high relief on top. The
verses are the more curious, in that they employ archaic heraldic
terms, now little known. They set out by describing the Bevyll arms,
“A Rubye Bull in Perle Filde”—that is to say, in modern heraldry, a
Bull gules in a field argent:—
 “A Rubye Bull in Perle Filde;
doth shewe by strength & hew
A youth full wight yet chast & cleane
to wedded feere moste trew.
From diamonde Beare in Perle plot
aleevinge he achived
By stronge and stedfast constancy
in chastnes still conciued.
To make all vp a mach he made
with natiue Millets plaste
In natiue seate, so nature hath
the former vertues graste
His Prince he serud in good regard
twyce Shereeve and so iust
That iustlye still on Justice seate
Three princes him did trust.
Suche was his lyfe and suche his death,
whos corps full low doth lye.
Whilste Soule by Christe to happy state
with hym doth rest on hye.
Learne by his life suche life to leade,
his death let platform bee.
In life to shun the caufe of death,
that Christe maye leeve in thee.”
“John Bevyll lyued yeares threscore three & then did yealde to dye
He dyd bequeath his soule to God, his corps herein to lye.”

Below are very circumstantial accounts of the marriages and

intermarryings of the Bevyll family, and on the old bench ends of the
church their arms are displayed with countless quarterings.
The growing dimness in the church warned us of departing day,
and so we went out into the churchyard, glancing as we passed at
the many mournful inscriptions to sailors and fishermen drowned at
sea.
 Among the old stones the following epitaph attracted our
attention; it is a gem of grotesqueness.
“Lament not for we our Mother So Dear no more in Vain
If you have Lost ’tis we have Gain, we are gone to See——
Our Deariest Friends that Dweell Above them will we go an see
And all our Friends that Dweell in Christ below
Will soon Come after we.”

Talland is a wild and lonely spot even in these crowded days: a

hundred years ago, it was a place to be shunned by reason of devils,
wraiths, and fearful apparitions, that (according to the country folk)
haunted the neighbourhood. But these tricksy sprites found their
match in the vicar of Talland for the time being, a noted devil-
queller, and layer of gnomes, known far and wide as Parson Dodge,
a cleric who never failed to exorcise the most malignant of demons;
a clergyman before whom Satanus himself, to say nothing of his
troops of fearful wild-fowl, was popularly believed to tremble and
flee discomfited. Not only did Parson Dodge attend to the evil spirits
of his own parish, he was constantly in requisition throughout the
county, and, so workmanlike were his methods, I don’t believe there
is an active devil of any importance in Cornwall at this day.
The vicarage was a spot to be approached with fear o’ nights,
for it was reputed to be the resort of the parson’s familiars, who
assembled there to do his bidding, and the place to which came
baffled and unwilling imps to be finally exorcised. Whatever truth
there may have been in these things, there can be little doubt, I fear,
that Talland was the scene of many successful “runs” by smugglers,
in which Parson Dodge took no inactive part. Supernatural spirits, it
may shrewdly be surmised, were not the only ones in which that
redoubtable minister was interested.
 LV.
Our map made the road from here to Polperro look like two
miles; imagine our joy therefore when, after climbing the steepest
hill we have seen in these parts, and after walking about a mile, we
became aware of the imminence of that fishing village (or, as
Jonathan Couch would have said—town) by seeing the blue smoke
from its unseen houses rising in a clearly defined bank from an
abyssmal ravine into the calmness of the evening air. “This,” said the
Wreck, “must be—the devil.” This emphatic and earnest ending to
his sentence had no reference to Polperro, I hasten to add, except in
so far as it was occasioned by Polperro stones, one of which had
turned my luckless companion’s ankle almost to spraining point.
After this we proceeded cautiously, for not only were stones large
and loose withal, but they were plentiful as well, and the descending
lane was of a preposterous steepness.
Country folks gave us good night as we passed them, and
several women-artists we overtook, going home after the day’s
daubing; then we ended our descent.
It was quite dark when we at length sounded the depths of this
narrow valley, and so into the miserable streets of Polperro. We
turned to the left, and came upon the harbour. “No inn to be seen,”
said I, as we climbed some rock stairs, and presently came out of
the farther end of Polperro, upon the cliffs. So we turned back, and
after groping on to an approximate level, came in a little while within
sight and hearing of the sign of the “Three Pilchards,” swinging
noisily overhead, and saw the little window of the inn, not yet
shuttered, giving glances into the cavernous interior.
 We adventured into the murk of the place, and our boots
scratched gratingly upon the sanded-stone floor. A bulky form came
noisily, with the clumping of sea-boots, along the passage, from
regions of which the darkness gave no hint.
“Can we put up here for the night?” quoth I somewhat dubiously
of this dimly seen figure, capped, blue jerseyed, and trousered in
soiled ducks, that confronted us.
“Sure-ly,” said he, and disappeared to trim and light a lamp. This
was evidently the landlord.
“And tea?” chorussed the Wreck.
“Yes, sir,” replied the landlord’s voice, apparently from the
remote recesses of some distant cupboard.
So we sat down in the combination of bar-kitchen-parlour and
living-room, and studied the beer-rings on the table in the gloaming
of the window, until, under favour of Providence, our host should
return. This he did eventually, bearing a lighted lamp, which he
proceeded to hang from the ceiling. Then came another journey, and
a return with sticks, paper, and matches, when he lighted the fire
and put the water on to boil, blowing up the sticks and coals with
bellows of a prodigious bigness. There was something diverting in
the spectacle of this rough, grizzled, seafaring innkeeper making up
the fire for tea like any housewife.
Meanwhile we sat and waited and chatted with our host until the
water boiled, when, after much preparation, we were ushered into a
room on the other side of the entrance passage, and left to tea and
ourselves. “If you want anything more, please to ask for it,” said the
landlord as he shut the door.
Ye gods! the chilling dampness of that room, and the fustiness of
it, with ancient reeks of the sea! It was whitewashed, and hung with
brightly coloured almanacs from the grocer’s, and here and there,
startlingly black and white, appeared framed memorial-cards
commemorating domestic losses. We required no skeleton at the
feast after this, but sat down to tea, sufficiently damped by the
dismal light of—yes—a long-wicked dip in a brass candlestick!
“Hang it,” remarked the Wreck, observing no teapot, “where’s
the tea?” and just then his eye lighted on what should have been
the hot-water jug. There was the tea, sure enough, in the jug! But
not the most diligent search could discover any milk, so I put my
head out o’ door and asked for some. The landlord was doubtful of
procuring any in Polperro that night, but would send his boy out on
the chance, unless, indeed, we would like condensed milk.
But our souls sickened at the thought of it, and fortunately some
decent milk was had at last. Said the landlord again, as he closed
the door, “If you want anything more, please to ask for it.” It
occurred to us, however, that we had better make content with what
we had, for by the time our very ordinary wants had been satisfied,
the night would have been far spent indeed.
There was a nasty indescribable tang about that tea, and even
the bread and butter was horrid. We were very hungry, and so made
shift to eat a little bread and butter, but the tea we poured out of
window.
Then we went out in the darkness of the lanes to see how
Polperro showed at night. To walk along those lanes was an
experience analogous to getting one’s sea-legs on an ocean-going
sailing craft. The night was so dark, and the cobble-stone pavements
so uneven, that the taking of each step was a problem of moment.
 AN OLD SHOP, POLPERRO.

This was a Saturday night, and much business (for Polperro) was
being transacted. Little shops shed glow-worm lights across the
roadways, and on to rugged walls, which acted in some sort the part
of the sheet in magic-lantern entertainments; that is to say, the little
patches of comparative brilliancy exhibited exaggerated replicas of
the window’s contents. Loaves of bread on the baker’s shelves
assumed, in this sordid magic, the gigantic size of the free loaf in
old-time Anti Corn-Law demonstrations; the sweetstuff bottles in the
windows of the general shops argued, not ounces, but pounds of
stickinesses; and the wavering shadows of customers’ and
shopkeepers’ figures seemed like the forms of giants, alternately
squat and long-drawn, contending for these gargantuan delicacies. I
burned to picture these things, not in words, but by other methods.
My companion hungered still, and truth to tell, so did I; and so we
bought some biscuits and munched them as we went. We eventually
returned to the “Three Pilchards” and went to bed, escorted by the
landlord with a dip stuck in a ginger-beer bottle. I must say, though,
that we were given candlesticks.
The next morning, being Sunday, the landlord had “cleaned”
himself with more than usual care, and appeared resplendently
arrayed in a suit of glossy black cloth, of the kind which I believe is
called “doe-skin.” He shut us in the sitting-room to breakfast, which
was waiting, and, before disappearing, repeated his usual formula.
After breakfast, we covenanted to return at one o’clock for
dinner, and went out upon the headlands that guard with jagged
rocks the narrow gut of Polperro. It was the quietest of days; even
the screaming sea-gulls’ cries were less persistent than on week-
days; and the male population of the place lay idly on the rocks, or
lounged, gossiping, at sunny corners of the lanes, while the mid-day
meal cooked within doors. But above all the grateful kitchen odours
rose the scent of the fish offal that, with the ebbing of the tide, lay
stranded in the ooze of the harbour, and bubbled and fermented in
the heat of the sun, vindicating the country folk, who call the place
Polstink.
Down in the lanes, as we returned, the wafts of the fish-cellars
filled the air. One hundred and twenty-four years ago—on Friday,
September the sixteenth, 1760, to be particular—the Rev. John
Wesley “rode through heavy rain to Paulperow,” as he tells us in his
“Journal.” “Here,” says he, “the room over which we were to lodge,
being filled with pilchards and conger-eels, the perfume was too
potent for me, so that I was not sorry when one of our friends
invited me to lodge at her house.” But, indeed, Polperro did not
show its best face to Wesley at any time, for, of his first visit here,
which happened six years before this, he says, “Came about two to
Poleperrow, a little village, four hours’ ride from Plymouth Passage,
surrounded with huge mountains. However, abundance of people
had found their way thither. And so had Satan too: for an old, grey-
headed sinner was bitterly cursing all the Methodists just as we
came into the town.”
To pass a Sunday at Polperro is to experience how empty and
miserable a day of rest may become. We dined off the homely fare
offered us at the “Three Pilchards,” and sighed for tea-time, and at
tea-time sighed for bed. Arrived between the sheets, we fell asleep,
longing for the morrow, when the hum of this work-a-day world
would recommence.
 LVI.
This morn we breakfasted betimes, settled our modest score,
and trudged away, up steep hillsides and across meadows, to
Lansallos, and from Lansallos to Lanteglos-juxta-Fowey.
We came to Lanteglos before (according to the map) we had any
right so to do, going to it through steep hillside fields. I don’t think
there is any village to speak of, but there is a fine church,
picturesquely out of plumb, with a four-staged tower, strong and
plain, without buttresses, standing, with its churchyard, beside a
“farm-place,” as the Cornish folk sometimes call their farm-yards,
filled with great stacks of corn, stilted on long rows of stone
staddles.
There stands beside the church porch one of the finest crosses
to be found in Cornwall, of fifteenth-century date, with head
elaborately sculptured into tabernacles, containing representations of
the Virgin and Child, the Crucifixion, and two figures of saints. This
cross was discovered some years ago, buried in the churchyard, and
was set up by the then vicar in its present position, with a millstone
by way of pedestal.
The guide-books tell of great store of brasses within the church;
but the building was locked, the keys were at a cottage far down the
valley, the sun was hot, and, lastly but not least, we were lazy; so
we only stayed and sketched the exterior, and peered through the
windows at the whitewashed walls and old-fashioned pews, and
presently went away.
 LANTEGLOS-JUXTA-FOWEY.

From Lanteglos good but steep roads lead down to Polruan, a

manner of over-the-water suburb of Fowey, set picturesquely on the
west shore of Fowey River. As we went down the steep street,
children were singing the ribald song which pervaded London, and
the country generally, all last year. I am not going to name it here;
let it die, and be deservedly forgotten. But, par parenthèse, I will put
a question here to philosophers. We know at what rate light travels,
and sound too, but at what rate of speed does the comic song fare
on its baleful course? Who, again, shall estimate how rapidly the
contagion spreads of those now happily defunct songs of an
appalling sentimentality—“See-Saw,” “The Maid of the Mill,” or, to
sound deeper depths, “Annie Rooney,” and “White Wings”?
 A ferry runs between Polruan and Fowey, the latter a town that
has grown from its former estate of slumberous seaport into a
“resort” of quite a fashionable and exclusive flavour. It is “still
growing”—worse luck. The visitor may easily recognise Fowey as the
original of “Troy Town,” by “Q.,” whose initial, being interpreted,
stands for Mr. A. T. Quiller-Couch, himself a Cornishman. The salient
features of Fowey to the eye, the nose, the ear, and the mind are
sea- and land-scapes of wondrous beauty, fish odours, the clangour
of a disreputable brass band, and historical legends of a peculiarly
romantic character.
A wonderful old church of a peculiar dedication—Saint Finbarrus
—stands in midst of Fowey town. We explored its interior on the
evening of our stay at Fowey, attracted by its lighted windows and
the weekly practising of the choir then going forward. The chancel
was lit up, and the church itself lay either in deep shadow or in
mysterious half-lighting. The choir and the choirmaster, standing in
the gas-lit circle, with the broad pointed arches of the nave arcade
yawning around them, and the queer memorials of centuries ago,
with their figures of dames and knights, touched to uncanny
resemblances by the incidence of the shadows, made an extremely
delightful picture, and one eminently paintable.
There are many Treffrys and Rashleighs buried within Saint
Finbar’s—two families with which the history of Fowey is interwoven.
One John Treffry, buried here, seems to have been something of an
eccentric, for he had his grave dug during his lifetime, and lay down
and swore in it, “to shew the sexton a novelty.” His epitaph is a
curious jingle—the work of the man himself, one would say. Here it
is—
 “Here in this Chancell do I ly
Known by the name of John Treffry
Being made & born for to dye
So must thou friend as well as I
Therefore Good works be Sure to try
But chiefly love and charity
And still on them with faith rely
So be happy eternally.”

This epitaph to Mary Courtney is not without a certain sweetness

of conceit:—

“In Memory of Mary ye daughter

of Sir Peter Courtney of Trethurffe:
who dyed the 14th day of June, in
the year of our Lord
1655.

Neer this a rare Jewell’s Sa’t,

Clos’d uppe in a cabinet:
Let no sacrilegious hand
Breake through: ’tis ye Strickt Com̄ aund
of the Jeweller: who hath Sayd
(And ’tis fit he be obayd)
He require it Safe, and Sound,
Both aboue and under Ground:
This Mary was Grandafter to Jonathan
Raishleighe of Menebilly Esqr.”

Choir practice ended, the church was closed, and we were cast
forth upon the streets with the tail end of the evening before us.
Fowey is a seaside town, singular in having no sands and no
recognised public promenade; there was nothing to do then but to
spend the evening at our hotel over our maps and notes. We had by
this time collected an intolerable quantity of the tourists’ usual
lumber. Fossils, lumps of tin and copper ore, and fragments of
granite would drop from our knapsacks upon the least provocation,
or upon no provocation whatever. We amalgamated our hoards,
threw away a goodly percentage, and sent the remainder of the
relics up to London.
I don’t like to think about the cost of their carriage. It was, like
the relics, collectively, and in detail, heavy. Of what use are the
things after all? You shall hear.
At this moment of writing up the journal of our tour it is
Christmas time, and waits are lingering in the street below me,
howling dismally. I have noiselessly opened the window, and thrown
an ammonite at them from the vantage-point of the second floor. It
is to be hoped that one or other of them was as much struck by it as
I was (but in a different sense) when I found it in Cornwall. But that
ammonite was as large as a saucer, and, considering that costly
freight from the west, somewhat expensive ammunition. Coals
would have been cheaper, less compromising, and quite as effective.
I say less compromising, because, if any one is severely hurt,
ammonites are not so common in London but what their possession
might readily be traced.
But, sooth to say, they, with the tin ore and the lumps of granite,
have become almost expended by now, and generally for the prompt
dispersal of the nomadic cats, in full voice, who haunt the areas of
our street.
These spoils of our touring were handier after all than coals,
which blacken the hands, or soap, for which the morning finds a
use; but I sometimes wonder who finds them, the very aristocracy
of missiles, hurtled through midnight air from lofty eyrie upon
pavements deserted by all save the slow-pacing policeman and
those aforementioned disturbers of the peace.
 LVII.
We discharged a heavy bill this morning on leaving our hotel, but
consoled ourselves with thinking upon the law of averages, by which
our next account should be proportionably light. The morning was
dull, and mists occasionally dispersed, apparently only to let some
drenching showers through to fall upon us; and when we reached
Par, we heard the birds chirping in the trees between the showers, in
that way which (experience told us) betokened more rain.
Par is a little seaport, with a station on the Great Western
Railway, which is also the junction for the North Cornwall lines and
for the short branch to Fowey. Imagine a small, accurately
semicircular bay, with a sparse fringe of mean whitewashed cottages
abutting upon sands, partly overgrown with bents, the sea-poppy,
and coarse grass. Add to these a long jetty, a thick cluster of small
brigs, a smelting works, with monumentally tall chimney-stack, and
in the background, the railway and green hillsides, and you have Par.
For the life of the place, add some rumbling carts and waggons,
filled with china-clay, rattling their way down to the jetty with their
drivers; some three or four whitewashed-looking men, lounging and
drinking at the “Welcome Home” Inn; the whistle and noise of an
occasional train; a housewife hanging clothes out to dry in a garden,
and there you have the full tide of existence at this Cornish seaport
toward mid-day. To these incidents were added, when we passed by,
a diverting contest in the roadway between a cat and a valorous
rooster, their bone of contention, a bone, literally as well as
metaphorically. But the cat, having seized the prize at last, vanished
with it round a corner, like a streak of lightning, the cockerel after
him, and all was quiet again. It will show the quietness of Par when
I say that no one but ourselves was attracted by this singular
tourney.
The tide was out when we reached Par, and we saw how, when
the ebb is at its lowest here, the flat sands stretch an
unconscionable distance. The derelict seaweed, wetted by the rain
and drying in the moist heat of the day, gave out a very full-
flavoured, maritime odour, and “smelt so Par,” if one may be allowed
to thus irreverently parody the Prince of Denmark’s disgust with
Yorick’s skull. It is confidently believed that the present writer is the
first to discover this Shakespearian interest connected with Par.